Drive-by-lifers

California - August, 2017

One of my most favourite things about birding, is that one can experience memorable little discoveries in almost any place, that can happen at any time, and often, in some very unexpected circumstances. One of the most common of these occurrences is those pesky drive-by-birds. You know the ones I mean. The waterfowl that suddenly loom up out of nearby wetland, the rare parrot perched on a power line, or the bird of prey soaring over a neighbouring woodland. The issue is often you’re speeding along some highway and can miss your opportunity to confirm the identity, get that crippling photograph or even get a good look at the species in question. All of those experiences have happened to me. I got my lifer Black-necked Stork in Queensland, my first fluttering Bourke’s Parrot in the outback and my much-prized Red Goshawk down a highway in Kakadu. But my most recent and exciting drive-by-lifer? Well, that took place only a few days ago when I was travelling southward through California on my way to the Pinnacles National Park. I was zooming along highway 25, basking in the incessant summer glow and the forget-me-not blue skies of California. I was loving birding in this part of the world, and the past couple of days had been totally extraordinary. I was around 36km/22miles from the Pinnacles National Park and the farm lands were starting evolve into a cascading mountain range, complete with daring rocky peaks and sprawling grass hills. It was here I began to notice the bird numbers increase dramatically. As I rounded a corner, a flock of thirty Canada Goose flew up from a rippling farmers pond. They formed their magnificent “V” formation and flew directly over the road heading westward. Above, Turkey Vulture and Red-tailed Hawk ruled the skies, cruising and soaring as they rode the thermals higher and higher towards the heavens. The farm fences were lined with flocks of House Sparrow, Western Meadowlark and the occasional startled American Kestrel, who exploded off the splintered frames in a flurry of panicked feathers whenever I approached to closely. Down in the fields, a brood of Wild Turkey sidled carefully through a field of wheat, raising their comical heads towards the sound of my engine.

But then the real prize came. A plaintive little dot suddenly came into view, perched humbly on the lowest powerline, surveying the grassy hills below. As it came closer into view, my heart leapt with excitement. There was something about that shape, that stubby bill, stark grey tones and broad black mask. Yes indeed, it was a Loggerhead Shrike!

Turkey Vulture in full flight

Loggerhead Shrike

But before I could get too excited, my red Chevrolet had roared past and my lifer-to-be became a simply a memory now fading in my rear-view mirrors. My intentions to pull over had been thwarted by a number of vehicles who were chasing me with some speed. My only real criticism of California? The driving and speeding was horrific compared to Australia. Everyone seems to drive very aggressively, with no regard to the laws and speed limits. I’m sure it’s an accepted style that all locals become accustomed and involved in themselves, but for tourists, it was certainly a tedious practice.

I continued for a kilometre before I had a chance to pull into a little side road, where I could turn around and hopefully reapproach my Loggerhead Shrike. Minutes passed, and I became anxious and sure that the memory of the Laniidae family would have moved on. Rounded the faithful corner I was thrilled to see the gorgeous Loggerhead sitting in the same spot, survey his patch of field like a emperor surveys his empire. I hurriedly pulled over, clicked on the hazard lights and grabbed the camera. I managed a few disappointingly distant shots through the windscreen of the car, before the Loggerhead suddenly leapt into the sky, flashing its powerful wings of black and white as it hopped off further into the farmland property.

Shrikes are a fascinating family of birds that have captured my attention for as long as I've been interested in birds. Before today, I had only seen one other species, and that was a Brown Shrike on Cocos Keeling in December 2016. Shrikes belong to the Laniidae family, which includes thirty-one species of carnivorous passerines, found across four different genera. They are medium sized birds that inhabitant Eurasian and Africa, with only two (the Loggerhead and Northern) that are found in North America. They have hooked beaks, which they use to catch insects and small vertebrate. Once capture, shrikes famously impale their victims bodies on thorns, barbed-wire fences and other various sharp points. This allows them to tear the flesh into smaller edible sized fragments for consumption.

The Loggerhead Shrike has unfortunately been declining across North America since the 1960s. Conservationists believe that this is due to habitat loss, pesticide contamination, climate change and various human disturbances. Thankfully, the bird is still listed as Least Concerned by the International Union for Conservation of Nature.

Wild Turkey

Loggerhead Shrike

Leaving my latest bird acquisition and current favourite bird, I had performed another U-turn and continued on my way towards Pinnacle National Park. The closer I got to the park the more and more birds started to appear. More Wild Turkey crept along the side of the road, a Cooper's hawk flushed from a tree and a number of California Scrub-jay cackled and cawed from the scrub. The Loggerhead had been an awesome bird and classic drive-by-lifer. Next up was Yellow-billed Magpie, I could just feel it!

​PS. Don't forget to leave a comment! Tell us about your drive-by-lifers and birding experiences! Have you ever seen a shrike before?

James Mustafa is a birder, wildlife enthusiast and self-confessed twitcher from Melbourne, Australia. A musician and composer by trade, he has been birding, exploring nature and appreciate wildlife for all his life. Since taking up a fascinating with birds, he has soared with tropicbirds in the Indian Ocean, chased owls in North America, danced with kiwi in New Zealand and twitched everything from gulls to leaf warblers across Australia.